This morning I encountered a rather magnificent turtle with a wee plant growing on its back! Alas, it was crossing a busy trail and headed away from where it belonged so I lifted it up gently, turned it back around, and hoped for the best.
Haiku 22
April 22, 2025
World-bearing turtle
Let me point you toward water
where you’ll make a splash
While I was in Wisconsin this weekend, things were inching ever closer toward some semblance of spring. It was still grey, and damp, and chilly. The trees were still bare.
But the cord of wood outside my parents house had dwindled to nearly nothing, so in a spontaneous ritual that felt both grand and ancient, my dad decided to burn what was left — all in one fell swoop — putting an end to winter.
The fire blazed for awhile, and the house got so hot we had to open the doors. But the wood is gone, the tarp is put away, the buds are pushing up through the warming soil. Spring always, eventually, arrives.
Haiku 21
April 21, 2025
And it’s nearly May –
All winter’s wood burned to ash
Daffodils burn bright
It is spring, and all the frogs and fruit trees and feathered friends are fertile. And they are noisy about it, honestly. Proud almost. Singing. Strutting. Making their lush, ready presence known.
At my parents’ house, in the country, it is truly an all creatures great and small situation. Just today, I’ve seen an osprey, a bald eagle, muskrats, wood ducks and a dozen squirrels who are the size of small bears, thanks to my dad’s bird seed.
Meanwhile, there is a very insistent robin who is looking for a place to nest. And she has decided that maybe it should be … well … inside. She comes to the window each morning by about 5:45 and knocks, flaps her wings, kicks up a fuss. I mean, who can blame her? But she’s a bird, so we call out gently, There’s a tree! There’s a protected terra cotta pot! How about there??
What if we just opened the doors and windows instead? What if we let her in? What if we let them all in?
Haiku 20
April 20
Tapping on the pane –
am I welcome? Is there room?
The robin wants in
There is nothing like frogs waking up after a long, cold winter.
Haiku 19
April 19, 2025
Chorus frogs trilling
Spring peepers singing backup
We won’t sleep tonight
I came up to Wisconsin for a few days and this is what was waiting for me. The piers aren’t in yet for summer. No motors, no kayaks, no echoed shouts. Just this. And a loon. And a little rain. The quiet.
Haiku 18
April 18, 2025
Sometimes I listen
to the sky talking out loud
The lake answers back
In case we needed a nudge, today is National Haiku Poetry Day! Maybe give one a go. Don’t worry about getting it just right. Think of it as play…
Haiku 17
April 17, 2025
Slow down! Kids Playing
The rules of the race are wrong
If we’re left behind
Haiku 16
April 16, 2025
I’ve lost track of time
The moon’s gold watch reminds me
Today has gone by
Haiku 15
April 15, 2025
Heavy with hurry
Rush hour on the river
Rowers catch and stroke
The news is overwhelming today. It is so hard to believe that so many people — so many people with power and privilege — are unwilling to speak up for what’s right.
Haiku 14
April 14
Shadows build a fence,
revealing what’s in the way —
An absence of light
An attack on libraries is an attack on free, unfettered access to information, an attack on literacy and lifelong learning, an attack on personal and community vitality, an attack on democracy, an attack on art, an attack on truth, an attack on human joy and connection.
It is bad enough that we (in the U.S.) saw more than 10,000 books banned during the 2023-24 school year, and that the federal government is dismantling the Institute of Museum and Library Services. Tomorrow, the Texas House of Representatives State Affairs Committee will debate HB3225, a mind-boggling piece of legislation that cracks down on access to (and the content within) public libraries.
In wild overreach, HB3225 fails to clearly define ‘sexually explicit,’ fails to differentiate between 3 and 13 and 16 year olds, and fails to offer parents an opt in or opt out option. HB3225 would force public libraries to surveill their entire collections and keep young people out of whole sections of every library in the state.
I remember when my girls got their library cards, and how proud they were, carrying the tall, wobbly stacks of books that they’d sound out, share, re-read and fall in love with. Those cards — those books — are part of the people they’ve become. Each generation of kids deserves that same head start, that same empowerment, that same thrill.
Haiku 13
April 13, 2025
The doors wide open,
stacks alive and generous:
we all belong here